Six Degrees of Separation
by ninajunkie
Summary: How many chance encounters will it take before Ron finds out Hermione's secret? How much farther can he keep being pushed away?


**Disclaimer:**Shame on you! All of you out there should know that I'm definitely not all that rich and famous and therefore could **not** be JK Rowling. Only the plot and floating random thoughts on this page belong to me.

**A/N:** Okay, so this is finally my entry for the DMHG fic exchange over at livejournal. I'm warning everybody right now that this is definitely not my best because I was having/preparing for surgery when I was writing this. So I didn't have a whole lot of time. Especially considering I was in Brazil with my whole family and then having asshole guy issues on the side.

The person I had wrote this for had dropped out of the race, so this piece of writing became a gift to everyone. Therefore, this is also a gift to everyone out there still reading my writing and adding me to your favorite's lists, because I get those emails all the time. I'm going to start writing again soon, just give me a chance to adapt to huge life changes right now.

**Six Degrees of Separation**

**Part One**

It wasn't a feeling she was used to. Hermione hated the sensation of, in a sense, being 'owned'.

No one had paid a price for her and she hadn't willingly given herself to anyone. Yes, she loved Ron, but she was beginning to feel claustrophobic around him. It was as if she would lose all the breath in her lungs and her hands would literally cling to her chest.

It had been a little over a year since Harry, barely eighteen years of age, had defeated the darkest of lords in their world. Most of the survivors had helped in their own special ways to rebuild Hogwarts and in a few months time, the castle would be reopened to begin schooling once more.

Within that year, everyone with high power was trying to restore order once again. The Ministry had already captured most of the run-away Death Eaters and almost all were already sentenced to their horrible ending, with a few awaiting trial. Destroyed muggle landmarks were all restored, along with the memories of those unfortunate muggles who had to witness an evil greater than they could ever imagine.

As the wizarding world began to pick up its pieces so did those people involved in doing the saving.

Harry had kept the promise in his heart to hold onto Ginny forever. It had been unspoken, but they knew they loved each other. In order to escape the crowds of fans and reporters, Harry had bought a nice sized flat in the middle of Muggle London and immediately made it Unplottable. Of course, Ginny moved in with him. They were engaged shortly after.

Hermione had been offered a job as a secretary in the Ministry with a promise of a promotion. While she saved up her earnings, Hermione lived back in her parent's house after she returned them to England.

In between working long hours at the Ministry, helping rebuild Hogwarts, and volunteering as much as she could, Hermione barely had any time to think of her love life. It wasn't, however, non-existent.

She and Ron had admitted their feelings for each other right after the war, and as soon as they had saved enough money up they bought a flat together.

After the war, Hermione knew that something had changed within Ron. He was no longer the backing-out type of coward she had known and his big-headedness had died down for the most part. The one thing she could not stand was how tight of a grip he had on her.

Only a year of being together, Hermione began to wonder when the question 'do you want to do something tonight?' had turned into 'so what are we doing tonight?' and it bothered her.

She knew that after everything they had all witnessed within the past eight years, he now knew the value of everything and everyone in his life. He was afraid to lose Hermione.

To her, it felt like she was stuck in a marriage but without the lifelong bond.

The brunette didn't know how much longer she could take it.

What she needed was an escape, something to get her mind off the thought of feeling dead. Her life made her act like a robot, doing the same thing everyday. Mainly she needed to get away from Ron, even if it was only for a few hours.

It was a Thursday evening and she had already left work and had to be at a wizarding orphanage to volunteer.

Hermione put on some comfortable clothes and shoes and apparated to where she was headed to. Upon entering through the doors, the lady at the front desk mentioned how she was early; how she was _always_ early.

It didn't matter to her though. As long as she could help restore everything back to normal again, she was satisfied with working longer. It was also a plus that cooking for Ron wasn't on her schedule that night.

As she was helping a six year-old girl get some dinner on her plate, she wondered why moving in with Ron had been such a good idea in the first place.

There was a beautiful flat in the middle of London that her parents would have helped paid for, if only had she agreed to it. Instead, she had thought that splitting the rent with Ron would benefit her, even though the pain in her gut told her otherwise.

When six o'clock hit, Hermione had a group of about eight girls walking with her to the park across the street from the orphanage. She smiled as a blond girl of no more than four years held tightly onto her hand while they carefully crossed the street.

A car came into view and the girl's legs couldn't keep up, so Hermione quickly picked her up to finish crossing. As the little girl kissed Hermione on the cheek before being let down on the swing, Hermione never noticed that someone from the corner bench witnessed the interaction.

Trying not to be noticed by anyone, Draco Malfoy sat inconspicuously at the edge of the park. He had gone there for nothing more than to think.

It had been incredibly difficult for him that past year, having his parents sentenced to Azkaban waiting for their second trial. Draco, on the other hand, had somehow gotten through the Ministry's grasp… for now.

As by Ministry law, he had automatically received all of his parent's property, him being the only child of the family. He still didn't get his inheritance, however. Living in the huge Manor by himself had been hard enough, but having to remember past events just pushed it all to his limits.

Usually he would walk aimlessly around London and sleep in abandoned warehouses. His parents would have preferred receiving the Dementor's Kiss instead of witnessing his recent actions.

But fate that day had led him wandering into a small children's park and without knowing what he had been doing, he rested on the bench.

Not long after, he saw Hermione come out of the orphanage with a bunch of kids. Of course he had not realized it had been her at the moment he began staring at her. Something just instantly drew his eyes towards her as he witnessed her kind interaction with the children.

Thinking things through like he always did, Malfoy came to the conclusion that having her around would be a huge asset to him. Especially in his situation, knowing the Ministry would be back around for him sooner or later. How could she ever turn him down with the way she was always trying to help out?

He decided that he would follow her.

…

As Hermione was getting ready to leave the orphanage, she grew worried about going back home at that moment. She just wanted even more time away from Ron. It was nearing eight o'clock and she knew that he would either be asking for food or just returning from the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley never refusing to feed her children.

Thinking back to her old childhood days, she remembered the old movie theatre farther into London that her parents would treat her to once a month. It only showed classic movies, those in black in white, and considering those were her favorite she decided it would be the best place to escape.

Plus, with the hot August weather, sitting somewhere with air conditioning would do well for her.

She grabbed her belongings from behind the front desk, bid everyone farewell, and apparated into the back alley of the theatre.

After recollecting herself from the dizzy feeling of apparition, she made her way to the front to see what two movies were playing that week. Since she had already seen _Casablanca_, Hermione decided to see the other movie, _Deception_.

Hermione decided to make the best of her situation and gave into getting a bucket of popcorn, one of the muggle foods she loved and hadn't eaten in a long time.

There was only one line open and there were two other people in front of her.

As she was trying her hardest to clear her mind of everything, she didn't notice someone get in line behind her, someone that she would have recognized if only she had turned around.

The lights began to dim inside the theatre as Hermione took her old, but now new, favorite spot in the third row from the front, directly in the middle.

About half an hour into the movie, right when it started getting good, she felt something hit the back of her head. Scared that it was a spit ball falling from the ceiling tiles, Hermione just wiped her hair off quickly and forgot about it.

Two minutes later, she felt another piece of something hit her and stick in her messy hair. She turned around in her seat prepared to see an immature teenager right behind her.

What her eyes ended up looking upon was someone she had known to be immature and definitely a teenager.

Her eyes looked straight into the gray orbs of Draco Malfoy. Hermione had not been prepared for that whatsoever, so she decided to ignore him. Even though she was concentrating on watching the movie, she sensed her enemy getting up from two rows behind her and walking towards her own row.

Hermione had _not_ been expecting him to walk down the aisle and sit right next to her. And that was something that bothered her more than Ron's suffocating ways.

"Has Weaselbee finally let you leave the rodent nest?" Draco whispered mockingly into her ear while leaning over, knowing it would bother her.

Hermione could literally feel the cockiness radiating from the smirk she knew was on his face.

"He doesn't control me, Malfoy," she replied, never turning her head away from the movie screen. Having respect for everyone else in the theatre, she kept her voice as low as possible.

"Right…" he said after a few seconds of staring at her. "You keep telling yourself that."

Hermione had to admit that the moment she was in was one of the most unpredictable, never imagining that she would run into _him_ out of everyone else. What scared her most was that having him sit right next to her didn't bother her as much as she had thought. Even after everything that happened during the end of the war.

Finally turning to face him, she asked, "what are you doing here?" Her eyes searched his for answers because she automatically assumed that he wouldn't answer her question.

"What, sitting beside someone like you? I know… You're right, I can't afford to be seen with you," he said, immediately getting up from his seat without any intentions of actually leaving.

Before he even turned fully, Hermione grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to stay put in his seat.

"You mean that _I_ can't afford to be seen with _you_. Everyone knows what you've been up to, _Malfoy_." She spit his name out like it was venom on her tongue. "You're family name and wealth means nothing anymore."

He yanked his arm away from her death grip, and sat right back down in his chosen seat.

"Out of all people, I expected you to understand, Granger." He didn't say it dejectedly or with a look of sadness in his eyes, but stated it as if it were a known fact.

Hermione, however, responded sadly, "I may not know your story completely, but I know what it's like to have your parents sent away." She turned her eyes away from him, now looking at the interaction on the screen. "Even though your family's choices weren't the best, it was obvious they cared about you."

"Are you going to start acting all sappy with me, Granger?" he asked jokingly, banter being the only thing on his mind.

She turned towards him with a stern look. "Why are you following me?" she asked bluntly. "Why bother _me_?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said with a trace of yesterday on his voice, acting like he had back in school when darkness didn't loom over them.

When Hermione kept on looking at him sternly, he sighed, "fine," sitting deeper into the seat and crossing his pale arms across his chest. "Is it now a crime to like old muggle movies?"

"No," she replied calmly. "But for you it might be."

And for the first time ever, Hermione had heard Draco Malfoy laugh.

Suddenly, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat from the back of the theatre. Getting the hint, the both of them turned their heads back towards the screen, but not paying attention to the movie.

Draco noticed Hermione sitting nervously, wringing her hands every so often, and biting her bottom lip in an obvious frustration.

"So, do you want to talk about it over some late dinner?" Malfoy asked smugly.

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever it is that's on your mind that you want to ask me."

She tried to match the smirk on his face and said, "sure."

…

Ronald Weasley looked at the watch on his arm and noticed it was almost ten at night. He knew that it was truly unlike Hermione to show up so late without any notice. He never remembered what time she finished her volunteering, but he knew it wasn't that late.

His first thought was that he had done something awfully wrong, like paying too much attention to the Quidditch team and less time on her.

Grabbing a few of his things, he quickly apparated into Diagon Alley. He knew of a wonderful floral shop that had Hermione's favorite flowers. Always showing up late after work was a big burden on her and he automatically assumed that flowers would be enough.

He heard a tiny ding when he walked into the shop. Ignoring all the displays around him, Ron walked straight to the counter.

"Hey Ron, how are you today?" asked the cute blonde sitting behind the cash register.

"Real tired; Quidditch practice you know. How are you, Rebecca?" he greeted in return resting his arms on the counter.

"Fine, thank you. Did you want the usual arrangement today?" she asked politely, standing up from her seat.

"No, not this time, I was hoping to get a dozen roses instead," he said while following her to the back where the roses were kept.

Rebecca grabbed only the best stems as she always did for Ron and started ringing him up at the register.

"If you want to make up with Hermione, I do have a suggestion," she mentioned taking note of his saddened expression.

"Oh, were not fighting. I just wanted to do something nice for her." He took a hold of his stuff once again, but trying to be careful with the flowers.

"Right, but just in case," Rebecca reached into a small drawer under the counter and pulled out a little card. "They have some great specials on vacations closer to the end of the year if you're interested."

"Thanks, Becca. I'll look into it."

**Part Two**

Four months had begrudgingly gone by and things with Ron were not getting any better for Hermione.

Suffocation was the main word that came to mind every time they interacted. His hold on her was becoming even tighter and she could hardly stand it any longer. The only thing that let her get through the tough times were her weekly movies with Draco.

Every Thursday evening a different movie would play at the old theatre and they would secretly meet there and share popcorn.

It was a weird sort of relationship and neither of them thought anything too much of it. They never considered themselves friends, just acquaintances that shared the same interests and the same bag of popcorn.

Since Hermione was done with volunteer work, Ron slowly became used to the fact that there was no dinner ready for him every Thursday night. He never suspected anything that Hermione was doing and she never told him where she was, but she never lied either. Ron just never asked.

Hermione had finally received a promotion at the Ministry working for the Wizengamot and occasionally working for the Department of Mysteries. So Ron just automatically assumed she had something extra to do every Thursday, just like his old usual naïve self assumed everything else.

That particular Thursday Hermione had come across some interesting files while doing paperwork. And they were concerning the same person she would be meeting that night.

Once she and Malfoy found each other in line for popcorn like they usually did, she approached him about the unnerving paperwork.

"Yea, I already know. They sent me an owl this morning," he said while paying for their snack.

"What are you going to do about it?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, is Granger smarty-pants truly worried about little old me?"

They started walking towards the theatre and Hermione reached over trying to steal some popcorn from the bag since Malfoy was hogging it all. She threw a few pieces in her mouth, uncharacteristically showing off.

"Well, at least someone cares, right?"

And that sentence made him stop instantly.

"Would you help me?" he asked trying hard not to look at her. It was incredibly difficult for Draco Malfoy to ever ask anyone for help, so being blunt about it had been even harder. But this was the exact moment he knew would come someday. But the memory of why he had tried making nice with her in the first place returned to him.

"Only under one condition," Hermione stated quickly. He didn't say anything, just stood still waiting for her to continue. "No one finds out about this."

Malfoy was quick to agree, knowing that by himself he couldn't protest against the accusations that the Ministry was charging him with. So he decided to still keep his little secret away from Granger.

Two days later they met at Square Pies, a muggle pastry shop in Old Spitalfields Market. It was far enough from all Wizarding spots so that no one would witness them together. Hermione's excuse to Ron that Saturday was that she wanted to do some last minute Christmas shopping alone.

He had gladly accepted her excuse, gave a chaste kiss on her cheek, and made his own plans that afternoon with Harry.

Hermione had brought all of her paperwork, even though if anyone from the Ministry would have found out about it, her job would be a thing of the past. But she acutely felt that it would be worth it in the end.

The Ministry of Magic in England was charging Draco Malfoy with a handful of charges, all of them relating to the Dark Arts and joining the ranks of Voldemort. And by now Hermione knew that the grounds behind those actions were very ambiguous.

And now he needed her help to convince the Wizengamot that even though those events and actions had indeed happened, Draco had no other choice. They only had less than a month before he was to appear in front of everyone, so both Draco and Hermione had their work cut out for them.

…

It was yet another day that Hermione was not at home and it made matters worse that it was a Saturday.

Christmas was only a couple weeks away and Ron couldn't remember the last time that they were romantic with one another. He didn't know what to do, especially since he noticed that Hermione was growing tired of all the flowers he bought her.

There was a huge fire roaring in the fireplace and Ron hated the feeling of sitting in front of it by himself.

Hermione had been gone for almost eight hours already and he had run out of things to do. He had already visited with Harry and his sister and they even had lunch out in Diagon Alley. Ron had even bought the Daily Prophet from a vendor and spent as much time as he could possibly stand, reading it.

He stopped at the classifieds before he got fed up.

Sitting there thinking about flowers once again, a certain memory struck him. And hard. He had remembered that the cute blonde, Becca, from the floral shop had mentioned something about a vacation and handed him a card.

He searched through his briefcase for what he assumed had to have been an hour—even though it was barely twenty minutes—and came up empty-handed. The drawers in his shared desk with Hermione had contained no business cards whatsoever.

Then after a genuine hour of searching, his little brain remembered that he had thrown it carelessly into their messy drawer in the kitchen. Ron practically raced to the drawer to reach for the card and there it sat, perfectly untouched at the top of _his_ messy pile.

It was a normal business card for a travel agency specializing in cruises—wizarding of course, so the cruise ship on the card magically moved.

Most places usually closed around five or six and he hoped to Merlin that they would make time for him as he apparated to the end of Diagon Alley.

…

Hermione had decided to walk a little of the way to her flat, resulting her body to be chilled. Malfoy had apparated with her to the café a couple blocks away, saying it was because he was headed that in that direction anyway.

But Hermione knew better.

When she walked through the front door of her flat and set her coat on the hanger by the door, she was instantly glad to feel the warmth of the fire.

But then she noticed Ron sitting on the couch facing the fireplace with a smile upon his lips. That fact slightly bothered—no, really _troubled_—Hermione. It was not normal for him to look that way, especially when she was arriving so late. She hoped there would be no yelling.

"Ron, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to hide the concern in her voice, as she pulled her scarf off, hanging it on top of her coat.

"Why do you think something's wrong, love?" he asked in return as he got up off the sofa and handed Hermione a glass of champagne.

'_Don't get me started,_' she thought, but decided on holding her tongue and instead said, "I just haven't seen you turn the fireplace on before and you have champagne. What's the occasion?"

She then took a sip from the glass, her eyes peering over the edge to keep looking towards Ron. Noticing her apprehension—which shocked Hermione because he seemed to never notice anything—he stepped closer and held her hand.

"It's a bit early, I know, but I have a surprise for you." He paused, still looking at her.

"Well, what is it?" Hermione was impatient and ready to find out why her infuriating boyfriend was acting strange.

"I've booked a vacation for us," Ron confessed.

"A vacation?" she asked, confused. How in the world could they take a vacation, especially since she was working on a special someone's case?

"Yes, love," he started, sounding excited as he gave her an innocent kiss on the cheek, "a vacation, to the Bahamas for two weeks."

"So you booked a vacation, really, what's the occasion?"

"The holidays, of course. I thought that we could use some time away and alone together," Ron admitted.

"Ron, did you ever think that I don't want to be gone for the holidays, that maybe I _like_ being around my friends and my family?" Hermione was starting to argue with him. How could he possibly do something without talking about it first?

"Hermione, I thought you would like this. I've been noticing that things are tense lately," he argued back.

"That's a surprise, you actually noticed something?" She had snapped and said something without thinking.

"I'm not as dense as you think I am," he said, his brows furrowing.

"Really?"

"Yes. I know that things have been stressful lately and I just hoped that we could spend some time alone since we never get the chance. I get a break from Quidditch anyway."

"Alright, Ron. But I don't get a break. My job is very important to me and I cannot simply ask for two weeks off, particularly since this is the busiest time of the year."

Hermione didn't want to fight with him. Mostly, she was scared that she would let something else slip and he would find some things out that Ron shouldn't have faint knowledge about.

"Trust me, Hermione. I've actually noticed how late you come home some nights and how you never want to spend your free time with me anymore. At night, I feel like we're not even sleeping in the same bed!" His voice was rising with every word.

"I'm sorry if for some reason you don't like me working, but I'm not giving up my job for you!" she screamed.

"I'm not asking you to!" he screamed right back.

"Then what in the bloody hell is it?"

He slightly gasped at Hermione's use of profanity, but continued.

"I just want to spend some time with you," he said softly.

"Time is not the issue here, Ron," Hermione replied in turn. She knew that something else was bothering him, and she wanted to know what it was. "What else is it?"

"I don't want to lose you," he answered truthfully. "I'm scared, Hermione. I've seen what it's like to lose someone and I'm terrified of never being able to see you again.

That was the first time he had admitted it.

"The tighter you hold on to me, the farther I'll slip away."

He said nothing.

"We cannot take this vacation right now, Ron, but maybe sometime in the future we can. If I ever want to get higher up in the Ministry, I need to work my hardest."

To be honest, she felt dirty for lying to him. She needed to help Malfoy and she _wanted_ to spend time with him.

"Alright," he said before kissing her lightly and walking away.

But her lying had worked.

**Part Three**

It was Christmas Eve morning and snow covered the ground in a thick sheet of flakes from the night before. Hermione loved the holidays and the feelings that came along with it. She loved Christmas trees and decorating them, being around everyone, and laughing. It just made the spirit stronger.

She had been pulled from out of her dreams that morning to a slight stirring by her side and when she turned around she saw the smiling face that had awkwardly belonged Ron.

"Happy Christmas," he said sloppily, trying to fully become awake.

"Happy Christmas," Hermione replied back before getting up out of the bed.

She had sworn that nothing could ruin the next two days, not even Ron.

"Where are you going, love?" he asked, lying still on the bed.

"I'm going to jump in the shower. There are a few places I need to run by today, if you don't mind," she said, trying to hold back any attitude.

"Okay. Just don't forget we're going over to Harry and Ginny's for lunch today." He laid his head back on the pillow to rest a bit more.

Hermione grabbed her towel and made her way to the bathroom after a nod.

…

First, she had stopped by her parents' house to check up on them, but mainly to have an alibi. They were going to be there for Christmas dinner at the Burrow, where they would all be exchanging presents, which all currently lay under the massive tree Hagrid has been able to put up.

They chatted about a few things of recent times, drank tea and biscuits, and Hermione helped with a few things around the house.

"Why are you still with him?" her mum had asked before Hermione left.

"What do you mean," she had replied, a fake grin used a shield.

"I know you don't love him like you used to. Come back to us Hermione. Sometimes you seem vacant."

Her mother was pleading, in her own way, and Hermione's smile quickly disappeared.

"Mum, I can't," she replied more than a just a tad miserably.

"Why not, darling? Your father and I just want you to be happy." She saw her dad nod in response from his spot on the sofa.

"An explanation would do none of it justice… It's more of an obligation now, my responsibility."

"How so, Hermione?"

"Everyone expects us to be together, as if we were paired together since birth, an arranged marriage. Plus, I'm playing it safe."

"I'm always here if you ever need anything, okay?" her mum said, embracing her tight before she shut the door.

Hermione had let her mother's words sink in, those being the only thoughts she had as she walked down the snowy street.

There were barely any people walking about, since the snow was so thick and of course, since it was Christmas and everyone was with family.

As she walked, the only sound she heard was the snow crunching beneath her boots and the occasional car whizzing by. She knew her destination was far and that she had other places to be, but there was no way she could let this next visit be forgotten.

Hermione had only walked to clear her mind and then she would apparate.

And when she disappeared from the street, she found herself in front of a shabby apartment building. She climbed two flights of stairs before standing in front of apartment 2C.

Letting out a slow deep breath, she knocked.

"Granger," said the white-blonde man in front of her.

She had learned that Draco had only gone to the Manor once in order to sell some of his parents' artifacts. He needed a place to stay, after all.

"Malfoy," she replied.

"As much as I would like to see you frozen out there, come in," he offered in his own way, opening the door wider. "What do I owe this _lovely_ visit?"

"Well, it _is_ Christmas Eve, and I know it's not a holiday to be spent alone," she said, giving him a weak smile.

"What? Are you going to plead and beg until I go spend time with all your friends?"

"No, I just thought I would bring you this," Hermione answered with a smile, pulling out a little package wrapped in the shiniest silver paper, and handed it to him.

He stood there, shocked, because Draco Malfoy had not been expecting anything that year. But here was the only person so far that seemed to care about him, handing him something she had actually put some thought into for him.

"I'm not trying to poison you or anything," Hermione mocked, laughing a little.

He smiled a bit, and finally reached for the package. Slowly, trying to take care with it, he opened it. His long fingers pulled out a long, thin gold chain with a small cross pendant on the end.

"What's this for?" he whispered.

"I used to wear it for faith, or at least for some hope through hard times. I think you need it more than I do," Hermione replied bravely.

She was worried that he would throw it back in her face, yelling as to why he would want something filthy and used by a muggleborn—a Mudblood. Hermione was worried that he would just shrug it off and leave it on a counter to never wear. But it was all a risk she had been willing to take.

"Thank you." His face was so neutral, that Hermione didn't know if he was content or distressed about the gift.

But she decided to take it a step further.

"Here, let me put it on you. It can be difficult," she offered, stepping closer to him and struggled to pull the necklace around his neck. Was he not concerned that she might actually choke him, or do something drastic?

But of course not, because Draco had turned around. The first sign he needed faith.

Before, she had never stood that close to him. But this time, she was so close that she was practically on top of him and she could smell his wonderful scent, a smell of a musky soap and baby lotion. In a way it was intoxicating, and Hermione hated how her body tingled when she touched the soft skin on the back of his neck.

Draco must have felt her hand tremble, because he then lifted his left hand to rest on top of hers, as she finished clasping the necklace.

The anticipation was building within her insides as Draco then turned around and suddenly all she noticed were how amazing his eyes were. How come she had never noticed them before, even after these past few months they had spent together?

She still felt him holding onto her hand, but for someone reason Hermione kept on thinking about how warm it felt there despite how cold the rest of her body seemed to be.

"You are all the faith I need, Hermione."

The use of her first name hadn't shocked her, but instead it made the situation more comforting. It was indescribable, but she didn't care to think about words at that moment anyway.

Without thinking it through, not even thinking of the consequences and her current actions, and not taking into consideration where she should have been instead at that moment, Hermione accepted the oncoming kiss.

She still wasn't in the right state to describe the action, but later on she would say—as if in strict confidence to someone—that it was needy but gentle at the same time. It wasn't fireworks that went off, but a silent roar of a dragon that she could loudly hear. For some strange reason, Hermione would say that in a way, it sort of tied a bunch of knots together, creating a disaster, but one she willingly invited.

Hermione would definitely say that it was better than all those other kisses she received from 'so-and-so' and 'what's him again' and it was the only one that had accomplished getting a rise out of her.

And when the kiss had seemed to deepen and arms started reaching and when their bodies pressed closer, all thoughts had been pushed out of their minds. There was no single thought of Ron and how he would probably be worried at that moment. She forgot how her parents had said they wanted her to be happy and the look on their faces every time they saw her. There were no thoughts of the upcoming trial next week or of their possible results.

But their touches screamed out how Draco had realized how much he needed her—just simply needed her—and how much Hermione needed something to believe in. She needed something more than an uncompromised relationship.

Mind you, it wasn't an epiphany of love.

After what felt like two hours of needy touches and kisses, they broke apart, but with eyes locked.

"Who knew Granger could kiss?" he added as a snide remark and Hermione couldn't help but suddenly realise she liked his snarky attitude, even though it sort of ruined a romantic moment. Or maybe it had helped…

She had been late for lunch by an hour.

…

Christmas Day found Hermione bustling throughout her apartment, always her usual self with worrying.

There were still a few last minute presents to wrap and she was still in search of the perfect recipe for dessert, as she was in charge of bringing it. Hermione always seemed to forget that she had a wand by her side when she was panicking about simple things.

Currently, she was sitting in the empty space in her living she had created by moving the coffee table and was wrapping the last and final present of the year with a red paper covered in tiny green trees.

Hermione had the tape dispenser in her mouth, trying to fold the last corner, when a knock sounded at the front door.

"Just a second," she tried yelling as best as she could, hurrying to finish.

When she opened the door, she wasn't surprised at all to see Draco standing there.

"Come in," she said.

After a few minutes of silence, he pulled his own package from beneath his cloak. He handed it to her without saying anything, hoping she would accept it.

But then, what girl wouldn't practically die of curiosity?

It hadn't even been wrapped, but Hermione didn't care, she knew it was the thought that always counted. It was just a simple brown box, and when she opened it, she noticed that the present was definitely not so simple.

"My goodness, Draco," she whispered.

"Trust me, it was the least I could do." Before Hermione appeared in his life, he had always felt that he was like a fading picture, slowly going by without being noticed. But everything seemed to change.

A few minutes went by in silence, as Hermione picked up the last remaining present off the floor and set it on the dining room table.

"Why would you risk coming here?" Hermione asked, her curiosity once again getting the best of her.

"I saw Ron leave, so I assumed it was safe enough.'

"Oh."

Not another second was wasted as they quickly kissed, this time it being more feverish. She let herself explore anything and everything, starting with his hair and then his neck and his arms. He let himself explore the inside of her mouth, loving the taste she had.

Slowly but surely they made their way into Hermione's bedroom to continue their explorations on top of her—and forgetfully Ron's—bed.

Hermione tugged at his cloak, and Draco instantly obliged, taking it off without breaking their much needed kiss.

It wasn't as if she didn't want it to happen, but Hermione knew she should have been more careful, especially about the location of their deeds.

After a few minutes of lying in bed breathless, Hermione and Draco got up to get their clothes back to their rightful places. Hermione had just slipped her sweats back on, when she heard the front door open with a click.

She quickly, but carefully, shoved Draco into the bathroom, signaling him to be quite.

Making herself look busy, she heard Ron make his way into the bedroom through the slightly cracked door.

"What are you doing in here?" Ron asked, confused.

"I was just putting some last minute stuff away before getting started on the dessert," she simply answered, hoping that her lies would once again convince him. Obviously they had because he made his way farther into the room.

She prayed beyond comprehension that he wouldn't go towards the bathroom—but he was gaining on it—but then he suddenly opened up the closet door instead. And Hermione let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked, poking his head out of the closet.

"Oh, I'm fine. Are you going back to Harry's?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yea, he asked if he could borrow a few slacks to try on," he replied, his voice being a bit muffled.

"I never understand why he just doesn't go out and buy some more clothes," Hermione added.

"You know how the both of them are; they never want to spend any more money than they need to. " After shuffling about a bit, he said, "here, I've found them."

Yet again like always, Ron gave Hermione a chaste kiss on her cheek before walking back out.

Something inside her mind kept saying that it was a mistake to do what she did. Not about actually having sex with Draco Malfoy, but where she had done it. But she brushed the thought away because it had been the most exhilarating thing she had ever done. Even better than the most dangerous thing she had done while chasing danger with Harry and Ron.

And the worst part? She never felt bad about forgetting Ron.

**Part Four**

Seven o'clock had hit and everyone had finally arrived at the Burrow for dinner. All the Weasleys were there, except Fred, but people never thought of their loss. Weasleys by marriage were also there, including Harry who had always been thought of as part of the family. Hermione's parents were there as well. Friends had been invited including Luna, Dean, Seamus, Lee, and Verity. And then of course the Delacours were there and other family's related by marriage. Hagrid, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had arrived as well.

It was a full house, and everyone knew it would be, so a magical barrier had been placed outside so the festivities would occur there without being bitten by the cold.

Glasses of champagne had been handed out by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with the help of Bill and Charlie.

With tinkling fairies flying around, the night sky looked amazing.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were sitting at a table together chatting a while before dancing with the others.

The conversation was suddenly halted when Ron interrupted. "Where did you get that necklace, Hermione?"

He was pointing to the thin silver chain that hung nonchalantly around her neck with two hearts crossed together.

'_Fuck!_' she instantly thought. What was she going to tell him? Harry and Ginny were around.

"Oh this," she said startled as she noticed that she had been fiddling with it. "Someone gave it to me."

"Who?" he asked, just a tad bit agitated.

"It's just someone that I've been working on a case with lately. It's not a big deal, Ron."

"Oh, alright," he said, Hermione knowing very well he probably thought it had been a coworker. Harry and Ginny didn't think hard about it either.

But she never felt bad, because after all, she didn't lie.

…

And it went on like that for almost a year.

Hermione and Draco snuck around behind Ron's back and he never suspected a thing.

And it made it easier that with the help of his new lover, Draco had won the case brought to him by the Ministry, finally giving him his full inheritance, much to the dismay of most.

Even though he still had never returned to Malfoy Manor, he used their summer home in France quite to his advantage.

When Ron would notice something odd about Hermione—obviously caused by Draco—he would always believe the excuses Hermione would offer him. It was just a simple routine and she quickly learned how to lie and never regret it.

One day right before Halloween, Hermione and Draco lay in bed at her place, seeing as Ron was gone on a trip for Quidditch.

She was laying with her stomach halfway on the mattress and half on top of Draco. Little fingers were spelling words on his chest as his eyes were closed, loving the feeling.

"When will you be mine?" he suddenly asked, silver eyes still hidden from view.

"I am yours, Draco." Wasn't it obvious?

"Fine, then when are planning on dumping that good for nothing Weasel?"

Hermione continued to trace ancient symbols on his chest, ignoring the fact he insulted the man she lived with.

"Soon, I promise."

After all, she never lied to Draco Malfoy.


End file.
